Her Say
by Jazzola
Summary: A sequel to A Reply. Daphne has her say in the raging battle and more is revealed. Strongly Fraphne.


_This is performed by Daphne, after she hears Fred replying to his mother's message _(A Reply) _and hears Mrs Jones's message as well _(The Woes of Mrs Jones)_._

They don't understand.

None of them do except Freddy. What would I do without him? But he's had to make sacrifices too. His family. He can't ever go back to them now, because of me. I told him to make it up with them, go back to them if necessary.

He just said he didn't care about them if they were that shallow. If they weren't willing to accept his decision or hear my side of the tale. I know it was hard on him, and my admiration glowed for him.

But I wish it hadn't been so hard.

Velma supports me, her support knows no bounds. She was there for both of us, after Freddy argued with his family, after I was almost killed by mine.

That was the darkest spot in my life. I was ambushed by my parents because of how different I am to them. They wanted me to go and become a normal housewife, not caring how much I wanted to stay with the gang and do what we always do. First they condemned Shaggy and Scooby, calling Shaggy "that hippy" and Scooby "that cur". I snapped at them, but they didn't change. Then Velma. They called her "that weird girl" and seemed confused when I went mental on them. The last straw was Freddy, when they called him "that idiot". They were scared I was falling in love with him. And I was. Every waking minute I thought about him, the soft touch of his hand on mine and the smooth curve of his cheekbones and the aqua brilliance of his bright, eager, absorbing eyes. The sleek rush of thick, flawless blond hair, the pale, careful, tender lips. I knew he was the one. But they knew as well.

It was the last straw for them as well. If Freddy hadn't been there they would have killed me. Or taken me away from him forever.

The first one would have been preferable.

So we ran. We ran together. Nobody outside the gang understood. Freddy's family. They didn't. Even Velma's and Shaggy's didn't really understand, although at least they tried.

I didn't want to follow the stereotype. I didn't want to be tied down to a dull, working-class husband and children who would grow up to be as dull as him. I have colour and fire, the desire to do what I want to do and be with the man I want to be with for the rest of my life. And I will be no matter what they say or do. If they kill me he will be with me in heaven or the afterlife or whatever. If they take us apart we will find our way back to each other somehow. I know it.

My family were just too… judgemental and different to me and uncaring and they didn't bother hearing people out and they judged everyone so harshly I felt like screaming at them to give the poor person a chance. I hated them and Freddy and the others understood and they were there for me. They didn't have the same problems but they could help me.

I love how it is now, or at least I would if my life wasn't at risk every day. Just me and Freddy, together, with the rest of the gang on the other end of the phone if we need them, and we understand each other, we've been through the same sort of things to be together and here and we empathise and know about each other. We struggle together.

And have we struggled. I hated my family sometimes, screamed at Freddy that they were hateful and cruel and I wanted them dead. Each time he would hold me in his arms and I would collapse into his strength, his body, betrayed tears flooding my cheeks and marking onto my skin my hatred and my sorrow and my loneliness. Not that I was lonely often with Freddy there. I would feel my muscles have the strength seeped from them cruelly and unmercifully by the power of my parents' hatred and wrath and I would clutch Freddy's arms and beg him to do things I would never ask him to do now. Kill my family. Become a killer. Destroy everything my family had and had worked for. Each time he would hush me, let me cry on him until I fell into the black emptiness of unconsciousness, and then he would gently let me slide onto the couch and deal with his own demons. There were plenty there for him to deal with. I cursed his family as well and he never defended them. He joined me in my rage, the fiery, all-consuming, white-hot anger that had become my constant companion. We saw it in each other's eyes, my bright baby-blue orbs and his aqua ocean-storm irises.

Fate declared for us to be together. Our families tried to stop us. But nothing can. Every day I wish evil upon them as though I was some kind of demented voodoo witch. They will never split us. They tried to maim me, rip me, tear me away from life and Freddy. I resist them even though it throws my emotions through a strainer and some days I think it is destroying me from the inside.

But I have him. My beloved. And inside I feel that that is worth living for.

A/N: I hope you liked it, that turned out a little more Fraphne and a little less angst than I was planning on… ah well. Please review, and again, I hope you enjoyed it! Jazzola


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